


Open, Honest, Always

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Vows, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Douglas' suggestion, he and Martin write their own vows for their wedding. Vows which are recited in front of their family and friends to expectable results: love, laughter, and a few tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open, Honest, Always

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Douglas/Martin, wedding vows](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=12770273#cmt12770273) prompt on the meme.

“Douglas?”

Douglas smiled as the officiant gestured to him. He’d been smiling all day and everyone in attendance knew why; he had no ulterior motives today. He took Martin’s hands, took a breath to steady himself, and smiled.

“Martin,” he started, completely taken with the way Martin’s eyes lit up when he said his name. “You,” he said, giving Martin’s hands a small squeeze, “more than anyone else, know that I’m a man who’s good with words. I’m victorious in every game, I can sway any argument, and I spin an excellent yarn; I can even recite Shakespeare if properly motivated. But,” he said, speaking slowly, hoping to convey his sincerity, “my eloquence is often empty. There’s no need to support my words when they’re only for games and squabbles and stories. Even the traditional vows, which I’ve said three times before, wouldn’t carry the weight of importance you deserve, which is why I’ve chosen not to say them. Instead, Martin, I vow to be a man _of_ my word. Nothing I ever say to you will be empty. When I compliment you, it will always be sincere. When I tell you I’ll do the flight logs, they will always get done… eventually.”

Light laughter rippled through their family and friends. Martin’s skeptical brow raise and Douglas’ nod conveyed a silent ‘Really? Really.’

“And today, now,” Douglas said, holding Martin’s hands together, “when I say I love you and I promise to be with you, loving and supporting you through whatever Carolyn and GERTI may throw our way, that will always be true because these are some of the most important words I’ve ever had the privilege to say.” He touched a hand to Martin’s face, stroking his cheek with reverence. “I love you, Martin.”

Douglas turned to his daughter, who stood tall and beautiful at his side, and Verity handed him the ring. They exchanged a wink, one of the many ways to say ‘I love you,’ in Richardson, and Douglas turned back to Martin, taking Martin’s left hand in his.

“With this ring,” the officiant prompted.

“With this ring,” Douglas repeated, watching Martin, always Martin.

“I thee wed.”

“I thee wed.”

Douglas slid the simple band of white gold onto Martin’s finger, never taking his eyes off Martin, his captain, his friend, his love.

“Martin?”

Martin glanced at the officiant, the man’s voice reminding him that it was his turn to speak. He looked up at Douglas, hesitant to let go of his hands as they were all that kept Martin’s from shaking. They’d been shaking for days; Martin had never been so nervous. He let go of Douglas to reach into his jacket for his note cards. The ring on his hand, only seconds old, stopped him. He looked to Douglas again — his face as open, earnest, and honestly happy as Martin had ever seen it — and took his hands again, feeling safe and secure.

There’d be no note cards at their wedding.

“I’m not like you,” Martin started. Douglas’ brow knit with concern but Martin pressed on, knowing he’d understand. “I’m not,” he admitted plainly. “I’m not lucky, fate doesn’t smile at me, and I’m certainly not naturally good at everything I do. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been naturally good at anything… ever. If, if my dad was here, he could tell you how I failed to pick up every sport he introduced me to. I just didn’t get it; I never really caught on. But, but what he didn’t know is that I do catch on… eventually. It just takes me a really long time, much longer than anyone would ever think it should, and it’s like that with everything.”

Martin felt his hands beginning to shake again; Douglas squeezed them reassuringly as he took a shaky breath.

“It, it took me thirteen years to get my CPL but I did it,” he said, concentrating on keeping his voice even. “It took me six years to learn to dribble a football but I can play with my nieces now.” Martin swallowed around the tightness in his throat, looking down at their joined hands. “But this,” he said, trying to blink away the threatening tears as he looked up at Douglas, “ _us_ , is going to take me a really, really long time to figure out; it might take the rest of my life.”

Martin tried to turn away to wipe the tears from his eyes but Douglas held his face gently in his hands, keeping Martin with him.

“You’ve already been so patient,” Martin continued, determined to say it all despite the waver in his voice, “but I promise that if you let me, I will spend every day of the rest of my life doing my very best to love you. Because I do,” he smiled as Douglas wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I mean, I, I don’t why I wouldn’t but I do, Douglas. I love you.”

Martin reached blindly for Arthur, not trusting himself to look away from Douglas’ steady gaze. Arthur, who’d gone on a course on understanding people in Ipswich, popped over Martin’s shoulder and set the ring in his hand.

“Here you go, Skip,” Arthur whispered. “Good luck!”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Martin said, taking Douglas’ left hand in his.

“With this ring,” the officiant prompted.

“With this ring,” Martin repeated, feeling completely free of nerves.

“I thee wed.”

“I thee wed.”

Martin slid the matching white gold band onto Douglas’ finger, holding tight as Douglas pulled him in close and kissed him.

“It is my pleasure,” said the officiant, “to introduce to you for the first time Martin and Douglas Richardson.”

Those in attendance cheered and Martin couldn’t hold back the smile on his face.

Douglas offered Martin his arm. “After you, Mr. Richardson.”

Martin, instead, took Douglas’ hand in his. “Together, Mr. Richardson.”

Douglas nodded, holding Martin’s steady hand as they walked down the aisle together.

“Always.”


End file.
